


Markets of Polis

by AerisaHale (KarasuKyra)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, No City of Light Storyline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 12:37:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6985402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KarasuKyra/pseuds/AerisaHale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Markets of Polis were founded to be a place of peace among Grounders and Sky People. Clarke and Lexa have built a sanctuary for their people, in which they thrive together.</p><p>--</p><p>In which the City of Light storyline never happened and Clarke and Lexa found peace and happiness. (And got married.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Markets of Polis

The Markets of Polis ring with children's laughter as they dart between stalls, excited voices barter deals, and trinkets of all kinds are jostled about and click together, adding to the ambiance of the busy center. Roasting meat is caught on the breeze and fills Clarke's nose, making her mouth water. In the distance, a woman is singing a folk song, drums and a lute accompanying her. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Clarke allows herself to enjoy a moment of true peace.

Her eyes find Lexa the moment they open. The Commander walks among her people as if the experience were something holy. Clarke wonders if it is to Lexa. A melding of her people—thirteen clans brought together in peace. She looks around as if she were living an impossible dream, and maybe she is.

Lexa must feel her watching because green eyes catch her own and they are lighter than Clarke's ever seen them. Lexa is happier than Clarke's ever witnessed and she can't say she doesn't share the sentiment. The Markets of Polis are a sanctuary she never thought The 100 would ever find, but it is more than Clarke ever hoped for. Her gaze finds each member of Skaikru, who have flourished, have lived, laughed, and loved. They have learned that there is more to life than just surviving.

Clarke and Lexa called this center, this melding of their people the Markets of Polis. People tell stories, make music, dance, sell food, play games and laugh together. People of the Sky, People of the Ice, People of the Trees, and many more share the Market from sunup to sundown everyday. Lexa and Clarke make a point to spend a couple hours there each day.

Clarke spots Murphy with Emori, Octavia is with Lincoln, and she is with Lexa. They are proof that Grounders and Sky People can get along, can find love. Her eyes meet Lexa's once more and the Commander starts walking toward Clarke. Clarke watches as people move to clear Lexa's path, some consciously, others without thought.

By the time Lexa is close enough to wrap long fingers around Clarke's wrist, Jaha has approached them with a tight smile. “Heda kom Trikru and Wanheda kom Skaikru, bound in marriage, walking among their court on a sunny morning. I never would have believed one of The 100 would have managed to bring safety, security and peace to a dying people. You have exceeded my expectations, Clarke.”

“You had no expectations of me, Jaha,” Clarke says shortly and not kindly.

“True. However, you have managed what I, your mother, and even Marcus Kane had tried at for ages. All because you fell in love.” There's almost a sneer on his face, but not quite.

Lexa's response is quiet but authoritative. “You may not speak to Wanheda that way. You will address her with the respect of her station.”

Jaha lifted his hands in surrender and chuckled. “I mean no challenge, Heda. Just an observation.”

“Your observations have been heard. You can take your leave now.” Lexa's voice is clear there will be consequences if he chooses to defy her.

The pair watch Jaha disappear into the crowd. Lexa's eyes never leave his back. “That man is a snake in the grass. Hidden until he strikes. We must watch him.”

Clarke frowns. “That's a battle for another day.”

Green eyes meet blue and Lexa turns into Clarke so that their shoulders are touching. Lexa's left hand reaches out and threads her fingers over Clarke's; the fresh tattoo down her ring finger, still raised and deep black, stands out against Clarke's pale skin. Clarke reaches with her own left hand and lays it over Lexa's, the tattoo on her own ring finger stretches taught when she squeezes their joined hands. “Together, we can keep the peace. It will be your legacy.”

Lexa smiles at Clarke like she is the sun. “No, Clarke. It will be _our_ legacy.”


End file.
